


Tricky Nuns and Devilish Treats

by PixelByPixel



Series: Holidays in Hell's Kitchen [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween, Light Whump, M/M, Trick or Treating, Whumptober 2019, whumptober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 00:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelByPixel/pseuds/PixelByPixel
Summary: Matt didn't really have plans for Halloween. He was going to go chat with his mother, get some takeout, and then see about keeping Hell's Kitchen safe.And then there were nuns.





	Tricky Nuns and Devilish Treats

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [titC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC) for the beta and Yet Another Title. <3 
> 
> This fills my Whumptober day 31 prompt, "embrace" and my [Daredevil Bingo](https://pixelbypixelfanfic.tumblr.com/bingo) square for "stand-up guy."

Matt would never think of nuns as innocent or sweet or even inherently nice; his formative years in St. Agnes had taught him otherwise, and, well, there was also his mother. But he had thought better of Sister Connie, who he was pretty sure was Maggie’s best friend among the nuns. He never would have guessed she would set him up like that. So when he came into the orphanage at the end of October and asked where his mother was - well, _no_, he asked where Sister Maggie was, but he was pretty sure Sister Connie knew their story - he wrote off her little laugh as she directed him to the kitchen as general amusement, not specifically amusement at his expense.

A bit later, he would think several uncharitable thoughts about Sister Connie. Later still, he would reconsider that opinion. But when he went into the kitchen, it was simply with the intent of having a nice chat with Maggie and then maybe getting some takeout before he went out to keep Hell’s Kitchen safe.

He hadn’t expected that there would be children in the kitchen, though of course it was reasonable for them to be there. He almost fled the scene, but Maggie had sent him a particularly tart text earlier in the day about not having seen him lately, one that had made Karen and Foggy tease him when text-to-speech had read it aloud; he figured that she would shoo off the children once she saw he was there, and then they could talk.

“Please,” one of them wheedled. “Come on, Sister.”

“You can go with the others,” Maggie replied crisply. Between the water-sounds and the smell of dish soap, Matt was pretty sure what she was doing. “Hello, Matthew.”

“Hi, Sister.” He decided to keep it a little more formal because of the kids, though he imagined Maggie giving him a side-eye.

“But the others are going _early_, before it’s even a little bit dark,” another of the kids persisted.

“They’re babies,” a third added. “We’re too big to go with the babies.”

The voices, Matt noted, did not sound especially mature, but Matt remembered being little and wanting to be big, and his certainty that kids even a year younger than himself were woefully immature.

“Come on, Sister. Can’t you take us?”

“I’m afraid I’m busy.” Matt could practically feel Maggie’s gaze landing on him, and he instinctively backed up a step. “But maybe Matthew here can take you. Matthew, what are you doing tonight?”

He couldn’t lie. She’d _know_. “Uh.”

Immediately, he was assaulted by the children’s pleas: _Couldn’t he take them? They would be good, they promised. Just for a little while? Come onnnnnn._

“Matthew, don’t make us go trick or treating with the babies, _please_?”

Matt was pretty sure Maggie was laughing at him. Was this some sort of parental revenge? “But I don’t have a costume.”

Maggie didn’t even say that, as the presumably responsible adult, he didn’t need a costume. “I’m sure you have something tucked away that you can wear.” She must have sensed his puzzlement, as she added, “Something red.”

Matt’s reaction was an immediate negative, as well as regret that he had mentioned his new suit to Maggie. At least she didn’t know who had gotten it for him, though not for lack of trying on her part.

His suit wasn’t a costume. And he knew that Frank had meant well in giving it to him, but it still reminded him of the whole Poindexter situation. But the kids, not even knowing what they were getting into, were all enthusiasm. He had to wear a costume! That would make it so much more fun!

Maggie was _definitely_ laughing at him.

Matt sighed. He remembered what it was like to be in the orphanage and to want things to be normal, even though he’d known they never would be. “Okay. How many of you are coming? Just the three of you?” He turned in Maggie’s direction, his expression saying, _You owe me,_ and she just laughed once more, a low sound that warmed Matt’s heart.

“Yeah, but how did you know there are three of us if you’re, uh?”

“Blind? It’s okay to say it. Because you have three different voices. So just you three, then. What are your names?” He’d need to know what to yell if they snuck away from him. (He’d been an orphanage kid; he knew the tricks.)

“Alex.”

“Pablo.”

“Sammy.”

“And you’re all going to behave yourselves for Matthew, right?” That was the Stern Nun Voice, and all three kids mumbled a hasty, “Yes, Sister.” Her voice sounded like she was turning back toward Matt as she said, “Then you can come back and get them tonight at eight.” As the kids began to protest that eight was too early, Maggie said, “It will be dark enough by then, and you have school tomorrow. Now say thank you to Matthew for being willing to take you.”

The chorus of thank-yous didn’t exactly make Matt feel better about what his evening had become, but it wasn’t like he had holiday-specific plans. Foggy had said Matt could come along with him and Marci to some Halloween party but Matt didn’t want to be a third wheel, even Foggy’s third wheel. Karen was going to a haunted house thing with some friends from the paper, and Matt definitely didn’t want to tag along for that.

The person he really wanted to spend the holiday with was out on a job, but he was due back that evening… probably not before Matt was finished with the kids, though. It would keep him occupied, at least, instead of worrying. He shouldn’t worry, he knew, but he still did.

So trick or treating with kids it was. Yay.

“Tonight at eight,” Matt confirmed, and he headed back out of the kitchen before Maggie could con him into something else.

Sister Connie called a cheerful farewell after him.

Traitor.

* * *

At 7:30, Matt was still in his boxers and standing over the trunk which held his Daredevil gear.

The suit. Maggie had meant he should wear the Daredevil suit. The red one, not the black gear he had been wearing.

It didn’t really feel right, but Matt didn’t exactly have a stash of Halloween costumes and he should wear something; despite being roped into taking them, he didn’t want to disappoint the kids.

He sighed and opened the trunk. He had to dig through the rest of his gear to get to the suit. Frank had given it to him, without comment; Matt had said thanks and shoved it to the bottom of the trunk, and gone on wearing the black outfit.

Fuck it. It didn’t mean anything. Not any more. Muttering under his breath about duplicitous nuns, Matt pulled on an under-layer and then his suit.

It felt strange, after the so-called black underwear, to wear a more protective suit once more. It wasn’t one of those epiphanies where suddenly everything felt right and he discovered a new purpose in his life. That’s what it would have been in the movies, he decided. There would be stirring music, probably strings, as he put on the helmet once more. The sun would blaze in through his window - despite it being night-time - and cast his horned shadow on the wall behind him, and then would come the swelling of trumpets.

But that wasn’t his life. It probably was dark in his apartment. He wasn’t sure how many lights were out; it wasn’t like he ever turned them on, anyway, and Frank hadn’t commented about it yet. No, he put on the suit and it meant nothing except that Maggie owed him. Probably Sister Connie, too. He took off the helmet and grabbed his batons, tucking them in place. Better safe than sorry. At the last minute, he pulled a jacket on over the suit so he could pretend to be a little subtle, though he probably just looked stupid, and then made his way to St. Agnes.

* * *

Matt could hear the kids chattering outside the orphanage before he got there.

“There he is,” shouted one of them. Sammy, Matt thought.

“Knew he wouldn’t ditch us,” Pablo called, and Matt felt a little better about his evening. He didn’t know what had brought the kids to the orphanage, but probably someone had let them down. Matt didn’t want to be another person to do that.

“You can’t wear your coat,” Alex protested. “It covers your costume.”

“What are your costumes?” Matt stalled. He didn’t remember the orphanage having a huge budget for such things as Halloween costumes but kids could make do, and the nuns did their best to pull outfits together.

“Pirate.” That was Alex.

“Skater.” Pablo.

“I’m a ninja.” Sammy.

“Oh, that sounds great,” Matt replied, thinking, _That’s exactly what I need in my life: more ninjas._

“Kwan went as a priest,” Pablo said scornfully. “The suck-up. That’s why we don’t hang out with him. He went with the babies.”

“That’s enough,” Maggie chided, though Matt heard the amusement in her voice. “Matthew, give me your coat. I’ll hang onto it for you.”

Matt sighed and pulled off his jacket, then settled the helmet on his head. Out here, in the street, it felt awkward. Vulnerable. The suit was a thing to wear in the shadows, not where people who knew him could see.

But the kids’ reaction was one of awe.

“Is _that_ your costume?”

“Daredevil, awesome!”

“He’s my favorite.”

“Mine’s the Punisher, but Daredevil is second.” Matt took note of Pablo’s statement to tell Frank later. He’d smile; Matt wouldn’t be able to see it, but he’d still know.

“Well, let’s get going,” Matt suggested.

“Now remember, Matthew is in charge,” Maggie informed the kids, though Matt was pretty sure he was the only one to hear her whispered, “God help us all.” He grinned at her. “The kids know where they want to go,” she added to Matt. “Just try to keep them out of trouble.”

“Yes, Sister,” he said, too piously, then grinned again when the kids whooped with laughter. Okay, maybe they were a little bit fun.

They started off down the street.

“Hey, Matthew?” Sammy asked, from right next to Matt.

“Matt, please,” Matt corrected. “Only nuns call me Matthew. Makes me feel like I’m in trouble.”

Sammy laughed and said, “_Matt_, where’s your cane?”

Shit.

Shit.

He was so used to going out in his suit without his cane that he’d left it behind.

Matt thought fast. “Well, I don’t need it in the suit.”

Alex fell into step on his other side, and Matt heard Pablo just ahead. “Is it because of the ears? On your helmet? They make you hear better?”

“They’re horns, dummy, not ears. Dare_devil_.”

“We don’t need to call names. They _are_ horns, though.”

“Do they have radar or something?” Pablo persisted.

“Or something.”

“What are you, Red Batman?”

“… no. Just me, no bats involved. Where’s the first stop?”

“Here!”

The kids clattered into the shop and Matt heard their chorused, “Trick or Treat!” and then, after a short time, “Thanks, Mrs. Gutierrez.”

“Who are you, in the mask?” she called.

Before Matt could reply, the kids shouted, “He’s _Daredevil_.”

“Okay, Daredevil. Have fun.” She sounded amused.

Matt did not have fun, exactly, but he didn’t hate it, either. The kids provided a running commentary that he found entertaining, sharing innocent gossip about the neighbors and about their classmates or the other kids in the orphanage. They steered clear of nun-related gossip, aside from some giggling about Sister Bernadette. 

Matt, of course aware of where they were, gestured to the building ahead of them and asked, “Hey, is there a light on in the second floor of that building?”

“Yeah,” Sammy reported.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Will there be candy?”

“There will.”

“Okay!”

And the kids followed Matt up the stairs with only a little jostling. He pushed open the door to Nelson and Murdock, asking, “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have that party?”

“Holy shit.” Foggy came into the room and Matt could practically hear his wince. “Sorry, kids. Hey, a pirate, a ninja and… uh.”

“A skater.”

“Skater, that’s it. You guys look great.” Matt, who knew Foggy, heard that undercurrent of panic in his voice, the sound of, _Oh, shit, what is Matt doing now?_

“Kids, this is my partner, Foggy.”

“Trick or treat, Foggy!” the kids called.

“We used to go to your family’s butcher shop,” said Alex.

“Matt _said_ you had candy,” Pablo added.

“Matt, uh, yeah. Matt’s taking you trick or treating?” Foggy still sounded unsettled, but Matt heard him open the desk drawer and pull out Karen’s Emergency Chocolate stash. He made a note to replace it before Karen noticed. “Help yourselves, kids.” As the kids fell on the candy, crowing about full-size bars, Foggy pulled Matt aside. “What the hell?”

“It’s just a costume.”

“Matt. Seriously, what are you doing?”

“Just taking the kids trick or treating, Fogs. Maggie’s fault. It doesn’t mean anything that I’m wearing this, I swear.”

“Look, I know you still, uh, go out. Should people really be seeing you in this getup?”

“It’s okay. You know I don’t wear it anymore for, uh, night-time activities.”

“That makes it sound like sex, and I do not want to know about you, sex, and that helmet.”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh at Foggy's fervor. “I promise you, there is nothing to know.”

“Thank God.” Matt felt Foggy’s hesitation and made a noise of inquiry. “Maybe it would be better if you did wear this getup? For fighting, I mean. Not for sex.”

“No. Not for fighting, not for sex. It's not me anymore.”

Foggy sighed, but maybe he’d lost enough arguments with Matt; he didn’t push it. “Just be careful, okay?”

“It’s trick or treating,” Matt assured him. “We’ll be fine.”

Later, he would regret those words.

* * *

“Okay, what time is it?” he asked after he’d lost count of the number of apartments, shops, and other spots they had visited. There had been the occasional wry comment about his suit, but the children, to Matt’s pleased surprise, had jumped to his defense. And then there had been the comments about how real the suit looked, which, well. Of course.

“Eight-thirty,” Alex said, too quickly.

“Nine-thirty,” Pablo corrected. “Don’t lie to him. He’ll just find out, and then we’ll get in trouble.”

“Thanks, Pablo. It’s about time we headed back. You’ve got school in the morning, and I have to work.”

After the obligatory protests, Sammy said, “I know a shortcut.”

Matt hesitated, and Alex added, “Sammy’s the best with directions. Everybody calls her Google Maps.”

Wait, her? Matt hadn’t realized Sammy was a girl, not that it mattered. “Lead the way, Sammy.”

“But since we’re taking a shortcut back, can’t we do one more house?” Pablo wheedled.

“One more, and that’s it. If we’re out too late, you kids aren’t the only ones who get in trouble with Sister Maggie.” He drew a finger across his throat in an exaggerated slashing gesture, then grinned at the kids’ giggles.

“How do _you_ get in trouble with Sister Maggie?” Alex asked as they made their way to the final house. “She can’t make you do extra chores or stay inside instead of playing, or anything.”

“She has her ways,” Matt replied. “Now get moving, so we don’t have to find out.”

Alex made a vaguely affirmative sound and then hurried to catch up with the others. Soon enough, they came back, and Sammy said, “Just follow me. It’s easy.”

So the others followed, and Matt was just lulled enough by the unexpected pleasantness of the evening that at first, he didn’t pay attention to the warning that prickled along his spine. By the time he told the kids to stop, it was too late. People had come at them from both sides of the alley, and he just had enough time to shove the kids in the space between two dumpsters before they were on him.

“Daredevil put some of our guys in the hospital,” one of them shouted. 

The rest of the goons were less chatty, more inclined to violence, so Matt obliged them to the best of his abilities, his batons dealing damage to faces and knees and guts, though, from the aching in his ribs and his jaw, they’d gotten in some blows as well. Fortunately, they didn’t get him with anything worse than fists, though it felt like one guy had a set of brass knuckles. Perfect.

For a moment, he thought he would be able to break free, and if there hadn’t been the kids to deal with, he would have been able to get out, but he was hardly about to abandon them.

And then it happened. Matt heard a voice, shrill with fear, shout, “Leave Matt alone, you bullies!”

Sammy. Shit. With his "world on fire vision,” he sensed her standing before one of the thugs, small fists upraised, and for a moment he wished with all his heart that Elektra could see this tiny, fierce ninja. She would have approved.

Then the thug raised a fist - no, a _knife_ \- and Matt knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn’t get there in time; it was too far and there were too many people and he worried about hitting Sammy if he threw his batons. Still, he tried to move closer, but before he could shove past the thugs to get to Sammy, the sharp report of a gunshot sounded in the alley and the person menacing Sammy fell to the ground, clutching at their arm.

“Sammy, go back with the others,” Matt barked, and he was relieved to hear the noise of her feet as she ran. He wasn’t sure who was shooting, and he wanted the kids out of range. “There are kids down here,” he shouted, in the hopes that the person with the gun, helpful as they had been in both saving and probably traumatizing Sammy, would restrain themself.

In fact, there were no more gunshots, but the one seemed to have scared off most of the thugs, and Matt made short work of the rest of them.

Breathing hard, he turned at the sound of footsteps, hands lifting once more.

“The fuck are you doing, Red?”

“Frank?” He tucked away the batons and couldn’t help but smile. He was back early. Of course, he was. He felt a little foolish for not having noticed him earlier, but maybe he could excuse that with his worry over the kids. Usually, he always knew where Frank was, if he was close. 

“Seriously, what are you doing bringing kids here? Do you know what time it is? It’s a fucking school night.” Frank sounded honestly offended, and it was all Matt could do not to break down laughing. “But you’re wearing the gear,” Frank added with grudging approval.

“Matt, can we come out?”

“Yeah.” He could hear the flutters of their heartbeats as they approached, poor, scared kids. “Sammy, you okay?”

“Yeah.” He felt a small hand creep into his. “You mad at me?”

Matt hunkered down next to Sammy, though she still wouldn’t release his hand. He couldn’t meet her gaze, of course, but he fumbled to rest a hand on her shoulder. “No. But listen. What you did was really brave, and I’m grateful that you stood up for me, but I don’t want you to get hurt for me, okay?”

He could feel Sammy nodding. “Okay.”

“Hey!” That was Pablo. “Are you the Punisher?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Did you shoot the guy who was gonna get Sammy?”

Frank didn’t answer for a moment, but he finally said, “Yeah. It’s not okay to hurt kids.”

“Yeah,” Pablo agreed fervently, and Matt made a mental note to check what had brought Pablo to the orphanage.

“Okay, we need to get back,” Matt said as he got to his feet. Turning toward Frank, he added, “Thanks for your help.” And Frank hadn’t killed the guy. Even if he had, Matt… well, he wouldn’t have liked it, but he definitely wouldn’t have wanted Sammy to get hurt.

“I’m going to walk you back,” Frank said, his tone brooking no argument. After a moment of concern for Frank encountering Maggie, Matt tried to tell himself that it didn’t really matter; Maggie would think what she would about Frank, and there really wasn’t anything he could do about it.

“Cool,” Pablo exulted. “You’re my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?” Frank asked, sounding honestly puzzled.

“Superhero.”

“What? Uh. Huh. Thanks, kid.”

“We go this way,” Sammy said, tugging at Matt’s hand.

“Uh, maybe we shouldn’t tell Sister Maggie about the bad guys,” Matt suggested.

“But you were awesome,” Sammy protested. “You kicked their butts!”

“And the Punisher saved Sammy,” Pablo added.

But Alex, sounding pragmatic, said, “She’d never let us do anything fun _ever again_.”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, maybe we won’t tell Sister Maggie,” Pablo agreed.

Frank made a sound that could almost be a laugh. Leaning pleasantly close to Matt as they walked, he said, his voice a low rumble, “You’re corrupting these kids, Red.”

Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough. “Don’t worry. We’re already corrupted. Sister Maggie calls us Godless Heathens.”

“She used to call me that, too, when I was at St. Agnes, but she doesn’t mean it. Not really.”

That brought Sammy, at least, to a startled halt; Matt felt the tug of her hand on his as he kept walking, so he stopped, too. “You were at St. Agnes?”

“Yeah. My dad died when I was ten, and my mother, uh, wasn’t…” He couldn’t say she wasn’t around, because she had been. “I didn’t really know her.”

Pablo asked, apparently of Frank, “Were you at St. Agnes, too?”

Matt considered what it would have been like, having Frank at St. Agnes with him. What had Frank been like as a boy? Matt pictured a tough kid, but one who stuck up for people smaller than him. And an orphanage that produced vigilantes? Well, there were weirder things in the world.

“Uh, no,” Frank said. “Grew up around here, but not at St. Agnes. Sorry.”

“Why sorry?” Pablo asked. “I’m glad you weren’t stuck there.”

“Just… I don’t know.”

“It’s not a good club to be in,” Alex observed. “But it’s okay to talk about it.”

“Like being blind,” Sammy added. “This way.”

They had, from the ambient noise, come out of a narrow alley just a few blocks away from St. Agnes.

“Ooh, she’s waiting on the steps,” Pablo said, and Matt could hear his grimace.

“She’s looking the other way, though,” Sammy said, dropping Matt’s hand. “Let’s scare her!”

Then came the scraping of running feet, and then Frank fell into step beside Matt, his heartbeat reassuringly even.

“So. Taking kids trick-or-treating, huh?”

“Maggie roped me into it.”

“And then you end up taking them into a fight?”

“Nobody got hurt. Thanks to you.” He paused. "Well, _they_ got hurt," he added, meaning the instigators.

“Eh.” Frank brushed aside the gratitude, but Matt still heard a note of pleasure in his reply. It probably wasn’t often that the Punisher got a thank you. He inhaled and seemed about to say something else when, further down the street, the kids shrieked a gleeful, “Boo!”

“That maybe wasn’t the best move on their parts,” Frank said, sounding amused.

“It’s Halloween.”

As they drew closer, Matt heard Maggie scolding the children - it wasn’t nice to scare people, and they were out later than she would have liked - but her tone held fondness.

“You’re not mad,” Alex said, voice full of certainty.

“No,” Maggie agreed. “But it’s still late and you still have school tomorrow. Do you have something to say to Matthew and his… friend?” Her eyebrows had gone up; Matt just knew it.

“Thanks, Matt! Thanks, Punisher!”

Frank exhaled a soft “Huh,” and Matt felt a small, crinkly bag pressed into his hand. “It’s some of our candy,” Sammy said. “We thought sharing was only fair.”

“Hey, no, you don’t have to -” Frank began - apparently he’d also received some candy - but the kids were already up the steps and inside.

“Let them do it,” Matt said, his voice soft. “They feel like they have enough to share. That’s a good thing.”

“It is,” Maggie agreed. “They’re good kids. So… how did trick-or-treating go? Matthew, I didn’t know you were bringing a… friend.” She stepped closer and added, “Here’s your coat.”

Matt took the coat with a murmur of thanks and pulled off his helmet. “Yeah, we ran into Frank on the way back and he decided to walk with us.” All true.

“Were you trick-or-treating, too, Frank?”

“No, ma’am. Just out enjoying the night.”

Well, gunfire and mayhem were enjoyable for Frank, so also the truth.

“Out enjoying the night… in costume?” Which was Maggie’s way, Matt guessed, of asking if he really was the Punisher.

“No, ma’am.” Maggie exhaled a quiet sigh, and Frank added, “I’d never let anything happen to kids, ma’am.”

“I believe you.” She paused a beat, then added, “You’re Pablo’s favorite.”

“So he said. And I appreciate that.”

“So, uh, I guess we’ll get going now,” Matt suggested. “School night tomorrow and all, and you know those kids are in there eating all that candy.”

Maggie made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. “They probably are, yes. I’ll see you on Sunday, Matthew?”

“If not before.”

“You’re welcome to come to Mass, too, Frank.”

“Uh, thanks. Good to know.”

Matt listened as Maggie went up the steps and closed the door behind her.

“So,” Frank said. “That was your mom, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She seems like kind of a badass.”

“Yeah.” Matt turned back toward his apartment and smiled when Frank fell into step with him. “You got back early.”

“Finished up sooner than I thought.”

“Everything go… okay?”

Frank made an amused little sound and leaned in to bump his shoulder against Matt’s. “You don’t want to hear about it, Red.”

He wasn’t wrong. That was the compromise they had reached: Frank didn’t give details and Matt didn’t ask for them.

Matt still didn’t like that Frank killed people and Frank knew it. Matt was afraid it would become more of an issue, but for now, it wasn’t. “Well, are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah. I’m always okay.”

Matt knew that wasn’t true but he didn’t smell any blood, so he let that one pass. “Glad you’re back.”

Matt heard the uptick in Frank’s heartbeat and felt Frank’s hand slide along his arm, so he was prepared when Frank pulled him into the alley and pressed him up against the closest building. “Me, too,” Frank replied, his voice gone low and husky in a way that went right through Matt.

“You do realize that you’ve got me against my building, right?”

Frank leaned closer and brushed his lips against Matt’s.

“We could be up there right now,” Matt continued.

Frank kissed him again.

“Instead of down here where, although this is great, it’s a lot harder to make things more interesting.”

“Stop talking,” Frank murmured, leaning down to kiss Matt again.

And he did, for a little while, though it wasn’t long before they were up in Matt’s apartment.

He did not wear the Daredevil suit.

* * *

Later, when Matt thought he was asleep, Frank murmured, “You do that a lot?”

“Mm? Well, we’ve gotten pretty regular about how often we -” Frank elbowed him in the side, though he was at least kind enough to miss Matt’s most recent bruises. “Well, what did you mean, then?”

“Take the kids places.”

“Oh. No. I was going to see Maggie and they were asking her if she’d do it, and she was busy, so she got me to do it. Might do it more, though.”

Frank was quiet for a long moment, one hand moving along Matt’s arm, back and forth. “You ever think about kids?”

Matt inhaled a deep breath. “Maybe a little. Elektra and I talked about it, but not seriously. But maybe -” Maybe if she hadn’t died. He couldn’t say it, but he knew Frank understood. “Was it hard for you, being around those kids?”

“Nah.” He cleared his throat, then added, “Lisa and Frankie - and Maria - I miss them every day, whether I’m around kids or not. Some days just for a minute, others, y’know, like their birthdays? The day they - well. Those are hard.”

“I’m sure.” Matt realized that he wasn’t even sure when Elektra’s birthday was and felt a pang of guilt. They’d had so little time together, relative to what Frank and Maria’d had. And Frank had had kids, too. How could he compare their losses, even a little?

“Stop that.”

“Mm?”

“You’re all tense, and you should not be tense right now. You’re getting in your head.”

Matt sighed. He was. “Sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry. Just relax. Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s not as bad as that. What was it got you so tied up in knots?”

Matt shook his head. “Was just thinking about how I couldn’t compare what I’ve been through to what you have.”

Frank laughed, but Matt felt it more than heard it. “That all? Fuck. Of course you can’t. We’re different people, Red. Gone through different shit. It’s not like it’s a fucking contest, anyway. People go through their shit and they deal with it in different ways.”

“Like shooting people?”

“Or kicking their asses, yeah.”

“Point.” Matt wanted to argue - again - that an ass-kicking still allowed its recipient to have the possibility of redemption. But then he remembered that Frank hadn’t killed the guy menacing Sammy, and Matt knew he could have. Frank had eased back, done less than he could have, while Matt… what would he have done to protect Sammy? Maybe they were moving toward some sort of middle ground.

“Hey.” Frank nudged him and Matt eased closer, settling into Frank’s embrace. “You’re going to end up in knots again if you don’t think about something else.” Frank nestled his chin against Matt’s head, then asked, “Should I go to Mass with you on Sunday?”

“Really?” Matt felt Frank’s shrug, then added, “The new priest is good, even if he’s no Father Lantom. But why? Do you want to go?”

There was another of those shrugs. “Want isn’t quite the word. But maybe I wouldn’t mind. Besides,” he added, a smile in his voice, “It would score points with your mom.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s a little part of my day, and you’d like it, right?”

Matt couldn’t deny that. “If you wouldn’t mind too much, that would be great.”

Frank pulled him a little closer, and Matt felt some of his tension ease. It almost never went away, not completely, but with Frank, it was better.

* * *

There were several inches of space between them, but Matt still could feel Frank’s warmth. Just for a minute, he wished that they were still back at his place, instead of in a pew at Clinton Church. And then he started thinking about what they could be doing back at his place, and…

He sat up a little too suddenly and cleared his throat.

Frank leaned closer and whispered, his breath tickling Matt’s ear in a rather intriguing fashion, “You’re not paying attention.” He sounded amused, and he didn’t move away.

Matt closed his eyes, not that it mattered, and centered himself. He drew in a deep breath and _focused_ on the priest’s words. The new priest - the poor guy would always be “the new priest,” even when he’d been at Clinton Church for years - would never be able to replace Father Lantom in Matt’s regard, but Matt had grown to like him, and to appreciate his viewpoint. As he let the words wash over him, they lulled him into a near-trance, his responses coming automatically. He stood, knelt, and spoke as he ought, all the time aware of Frank next to him. It felt right.

When Mass ended, Frank murmured something about a phone call and made his way to the side door, neatly avoiding the groups of people still milling about the church. Matt would catch up with him later, and was glad that Frank was spared the knowing questions from some of the other parishioners about “Matthew’s new friend.” Maybe that was why he'd ducked out; Frank had to have an idea of the inherent nosiness of some of the parishioners. 

He lingered near one of the side aisles, and soon his trick-or-treating gang came to join him.

“Hi, Matt.”

“Hi, Pablo.”

“Hi, Matt.”

“Hi, Alex.”

“Hi, Matt.” The kids were all laughing by now, and Matt couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi, Sammy. Did you eat all that candy yet?”

“No.” Pablo dropped into the nearest pew with a small thump. “The nuns won’t let us. They said we can have a little every day.”

“But we got way more than the kids who went earlier,” Alex chimed in. “And they didn’t get _any_ full-size bars like we got from Foggy.”

“I’m glad.” Matt had replaced Karen’s stash the next day and she hadn’t said anything about it, but he still got the feeling that she’d noticed. Maybe he’d gotten a different brand of candy bar. Who could tell, with Karen?

The kids didn’t say anything for a few minutes, but loitered near Matt. Pablo kicked the pew in front of him. Alex coughed. Sammy sighed.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just… “ That was Sammy; she pulled on his hand until he bent down, and then she whispered a little too loudly in his ear, “Are you really Daredevil?”

Matt much preferred it when Frank whispered, but he managed not to wince, straightening once more. “What do you think?”

“I think you are,” said Pablo, though he lowered his voice as he added, “You kicked those guys’ butts. A regular guy couldn’t do that.”

“Well,” Matt replied, his voice thoughtful, “My dad was a boxer. He kicked a lot of butts.” Well, and had received butt-kickings as well, though Matt decided not to relate that part.

“You didn’t do a boxer kind of butt-kicking, though,” Alex retorted. “There wasn’t a ring or a bell or anything like that. You were like - whoosh! Wow! Boom!” Matt felt the wind from the kid’s movements and imagined him punching and kicking.

“Not in church,” he cautioned, though not without a smile.

“Yeah, Mrs. Tan just made a face,” Sammy said, with a sigh. “That orphanage-kid face.”

Matt didn’t remember the face, of course, but he remembered the tone of voice people had taken with him, pity and scorn and condescension; he felt a wash of anger on behalf of the kids. “Don’t pay any attention to them,” he said, his voice serious and maybe a little too intense. He tried to tone it down. “They make assumptions about you based on where you live, but that’s not who you are. You can be anything you want to be.”

“We could be a lawyer, like you,” Alex said, and Matt nodded his approval.

“Or the president?” Pablo asked, though his voice held a note of skepticism; Matt wasn’t sure if it was for the current administration or for Pablo’s doubt in himself.

“Of course.”

“Or a superhero,” Sammy said, her tone firm.

“Sammy, I’m not -”

“You _are_,” Sammy replied. She seemed to stretch on tiptoe, as her voice sounded closer. “We won’t tell. Don’t worry. We made a vow.”

Matt, remembering his own childhood indiscretions, decided not to press too hard for details on the vow. He inhaled, and perhaps his intention to argue showed on his face; Sammy yanked on his hand and said, “We _won’t_. You can trust us.”

Well. What could he say to that? “I do. I promise.”

Sammy made a small, satisfied sound. “Good. We won’t tell about the Punisher, either.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that.”

“Hey, Matt?” Pablo scrambled up from the pew. “Can you take us trick-or-treating again next year?”

Matt didn’t know what the next year would hold, and he absolutely didn’t want to let these kids down, so he settled on, “I’ll do my best, sure.”

That elicited a sigh from Alex. “That means no.”

“That means maybe,” Matt replied. “But how about I come see you guys on Saturday and we’ll do something?”

“Can we get ice cream?” Sammy asked, and the other two agreed that, yes, they wanted to get ice cream, too. Matt felt a little pang at the request but nodded. He wasn’t Stick. Ice cream could just be ice cream.

“Ice cream on Saturday,” he agreed. “But maybe after that, we can do something that doesn’t involve sugar.”

The kids agreed, and said thank you, and took off down the side aisle. They sounded like a small herd of elephants, and Matt heard one of the parishioners make a nasty comment and turned in her direction, his face impassive. He let her remember who he was, what he had been, and what he had become.

She stopped talking.

Matt smiled, though it was more a baring of teeth.

She fled.

“Stop that,” Maggie murmured as she came to stand next to him. “You’re scaring the parishioners.”

“She was being snide about the kids.”

“Oh,” Maggie replied. She didn’t come out and say, _That’s okay, then,_ but her tone implied it. “I saw that your friend came with you today.”

“He did.”

“He knew all the responses. Is he Catholic?”

“Said he used to be. Wait, were you watching?”

Maggie cleared her throat. That was a yes. “You seem close.”

Matt smiled. He intended for it to be a normal, regular-person smile, but he suspected that he didn’t succeed from the small, pleased sound that Maggie made.

“Bring him by for coffee sometime.”

Matt was pretty sure his smile got bigger, despite his efforts to rein it in. “I will.”

Maggie grasped his hand for a moment and gave it a squeeze, which was about as close to an embrace as they got. Maybe someday they would be comfortable enough for more than that, but Matt was content with what they had. He listened to her walk down the aisle and then turned to go the other way. There probably a spring in his step as he moved to meet Frank. He may even have whistled. Sister Connie called a farewell as he left, and he waved at her; he even smiled at her.

Matt knew how transitory happiness could be, but for this one moment, he wasn’t worried about the future. Let it come.


End file.
